Episode 237
South of Guojing in Yunnan Province—the Flying Dragon Thirteen.

With the number of demonic beasts noticeably dwindling, the warriors of the Flying Dragon Thirteen no longer faced the immediate threat of death. Yet these days, they found themselves confronting a different kind of danger.

“Can’t you swing that weapon properly?! If you keep flailing like that, you’ll regret it in the afterlife!”
“No, sir!”
“Swing your weapons with full force! One thousand repetitions!”
“Yes, sir!”

The members of the Flying Dragon Thirteen, their bodies already torn and aching from thousands of repetitions, forced themselves to swing their weapons once more.

The thought that they might die from overtraining before even meeting an enemy hovered on the tip of everyone’s tongue—but no one dared say it aloud.

Because today’s instructor was none other than Captain Oh Jo, notorious for his foul temper and unforgiving grudges.

Through countless grueling sessions, the warriors had learned that keeping silent and enduring the training stoically was the only way to minimize their suffering.

Amidst the heavy breathing and grinding teeth, one warrior whispered to his neighbor, “Hah… hah… who’s the instructor tomorrow?”
The other, barely standing, gasped back, “Huff… huff… it’s Captain Dang Ye-eun… hah… hah!”

This news was a rare glimmer of hope for the male warriors.

Dang Ye-eun, recently hailed as the most beautiful woman in Yunnan, was like a goddess to the Flying Dragon Thirteen. Almost no male warrior didn’t admire her.

…At least, that had been true until recently.

But now, upon hearing her name, the warrior forgot even to catch his breath, muttering in despair, “No… after the Viper, now the Ice Witch? I’m going to desert.”
“Hold on. Huff… huff… if you get caught deserting, huff… huff… you might end up training alongside that Ice Witch, you know.”
“Ugh! That can never happen!”

Indeed.

Since they began joint training recently, the Flying Dragon Thirteen had come to see Dang Ye-eun not as an object of affection, but as a figure of terror.

All because her training was brutally harsh.

She was a merciless instructor to others—and even harsher on herself.

Whenever a member complained about her severity, she would make them train alongside her. Those who experienced it once would later break out in cold sweats just at the sight of her.

Among the warriors, a saying had even started to circulate:
“Better to die at the hands of the enemy than to train under Captain Dang Ye-eun.”

Ironically, it was Dang Ye-eun herself who had proposed the joint training.

Though the number of demonic beasts had decreased, she remembered Sun Woo-jin’s warning about attacks from Je-gal Ji-gang’s forces—and the worst-case scenario where Je-gal Ji-gang might even enlist the Blood Sect’s help.

At the captains’ meeting, she had strongly advocated for joint training.
“The decline in demonic beasts does not mean the Blood Sect is weakening. It may well signal a greater threat ahead. We must use this breathing room to prepare for what’s to come!”

This was a remarkable change.

Dang Ye-eun, who had always passively accepted life and done only what was required as captain, was now actively engaging in the Flying Dragon Thirteen’s operations.

Her influence was considerable to begin with—being a direct descendant of the Sa-cheon clan and recognized as the third strongest among the young prodigies of the Flying Dragon Thirteen.

Now, as the great-granddaughter of the White Crane Elder Swordmaster Yang Moon-heon, her sway rivaled even that of the Thirteen’s leader, Pung Yang.

Yet Dang Ye-eun attached no importance to titles or influence.

She simply carved out every spare moment to train to her limits.

And even now, she was doing just that.

Swish!

From her sword, a crimson aura spread like a phantom, rippling as if a red halo around the moon was expanding to engulf the world.

“Whoa!”

Watching this, Je-un swordsman Byuk Ri-jung couldn’t help but exclaim.

The White Crane Sword Technique of Yang Moon-heon was unfolding perfectly in her hands.

In fact, it looked even more mystical and beautiful than when Yang Moon-heon himself performed it.

Byuk Ri-jung felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

His sworn brother, Yang Moon-heon, had never cared about grooming a successor and had always been laid-back. By contrast, Byuk Ri-jung had worried alone for so long.

Now, fate had brought such a remarkable heir to him—it was truly moving.

But unlike Byuk Ri-jung’s admiration, Dang Ye-eun was far from satisfied with her swordplay.

Her adoptive grandfather, Yang Moon-heon, who had reached the pinnacle of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars and recently surpassed even that, was effortlessly blocking her moves.

Clang! Jing! Clang! Clang!

Her crimson aura shattered like glass under his light sword strokes.

He even parried her attacks with ease, chuckling as he spoke.

“Hahaha! Your aura is so red, your White Crane Sword Technique should be called the Scarlet Crane Sword Technique.”

Dang Ye-eun gritted her teeth.

She knew better than anyone that her adoptive grandfather was a top-tier master.

Still, she couldn’t accept her own weakness.

She had to grow stronger—fast.

To become the strength he could rely on.

To never again watch him walk away alone while she waited behind.

But no matter how desperately she tried, her crimson aura faded away.

And before she knew it, Yang Moon-heon’s sword was poised at her throat.

“Haah…”

With a weary sigh, she looked up, and Yang Moon-heon smiled warmly.

“Ye-eun, a wall is meant to be overcome. If you push it forcefully, it will break. When passion becomes impatience, it only hinders you. You must give your body its all, but keep your mind calm and composed.”

At that moment, it was as if a blunt blow struck the back of her head—her eyes snapped open.

His words made her realize exactly what state she had been in.

She hadn’t been passionate—she had been impatient.

And she knew how dangerous that was for a warrior.

It was a grave mistake.

Especially since she was practicing the White Crane Sword Technique—a style that required lightness and grace, like dancing.

How could her swordplay carry power when her heart was clouded with impatience?

Dang Ye-eun thought,
“To perform the White Crane Sword Technique properly, my mind must be…”

Suddenly, memories flooded her mind.

Memories that made her feel free and at ease.

Most of them were moments shared with Sun Woo-jin.

The times they fought side by side as the fearsome Blue-Red Twin Swords, breaking free from the world’s constraints.

Learning the Moonlight Wandering Sword Dance at the Guang Sword Tomb, laughing and talking together.

Even the memory of being held in his arms and kissed.

Though she hadn’t realized it, her eyes gently closed as she recalled these moments.

A soft smile appeared on her lips.

Yang Moon-heon, watching her, smiled fondly as well.

He had waited until her impatience peaked to say those words—and it seemed the timing had worked.

Dang Ye-eun had entered a state of serene focus.

After a moment, her closed eyes opened, and her sword slowly rose, beginning to dance again.

Though beautiful before, now her swordplay was breathtaking—like a celestial maiden descending from the heavens to dance.

Byuk Ri-jung, noticing the change in her White Crane Sword Technique, called out in surprise to Yang Moon-heon.

“Brother!”
Yang Moon-heon nodded with a pleased smile.
“Yes, Ye-eun has crossed another wall.”

Even without Sun Woo-jin by her side, even without returning to the Guang Sword Tomb, Dang Ye-eun’s growth continued unabated.

---

Meanwhile, the supreme figure of this era, one of the Thirty-Six Heavenly Stars and idolized by Ha Won-dal-gi Yeon Tae-jin, Lady Yeong Seok-ma Son Eun-sang, now stood in pure white robes, following the orders of Ma Jong-hwan of the Life-and-Death Sect.

Ma Jong-hwan, sweating profusely, instructed,
“Open it wider.”
With delicate hands, Son Eun-sang carefully pried open the wound.

Ma Jong-hwan fixed his gaze on the opening and said,
“Now, I’ll pull it out. We must keep this state stable.”

Already intensely focused, Son Eun-sang nodded slightly, unable to speak but signaling her understanding.

Swallowing hard, Ma Jong-hwan slowly began to extract the sword embedded in the patient’s chest.

Even for someone called the Life-and-Death Sect’s master, this was a first—and nerve-wracking.

A person still alive with a sword piercing their heart? If he hadn’t seen it himself, he wouldn’t have believed it.

“Just a little more… almost there!”

Ma Jong-hwan finally drew the sword and let out a sigh of relief.

But unlike him, Son Eun-sang still couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Her immense internal energy was holding back all the patient’s bleeding.

It wasn’t just about stopping the blood flow; she also had to preserve the life force the patient was clinging to. Such a delicate yet brutal task was beyond the reach of anyone but a master of her caliber.

Without a word, Ma Jong-hwan watched Son Eun-sang focus solely on maintaining the patient’s condition, and a warm smile unexpectedly spread across his face.

He spoke softly to her.

“Just hold on a little longer. I’ll finish as quickly as I can.”

Son Eun-sang returned his gaze with a gentle smile.

It was an incredibly beautiful expression.

With utmost care, Ma Jong-hwan began suturing from the heart inward.

Despite the heart being pierced wide open, there was no bleeding—a testament to Son Eun-sang’s astonishing ability to sustain the patient’s condition.

And yet, another feeling stirred within him…

He fought the urge to look at her face again and forced his attention back to the patient.

That the patient was still alive was nothing short of a miracle.

If this person hadn’t been a master of extraordinary skill, if they hadn’t used the Gui-sik technique before being stabbed, or if the one who plunged the sword hadn’t intended to kill, survival would have been impossible.

Ma Jong-hwan’s guess was this:

“Perhaps the one who stabbed him warned him beforehand—‘I will pierce your heart, but I will use the secret of the Hwal Sword to seal your heart’s energy. If you want to live, prepare your body in a suspended state with the Gui-sik technique.’ It sounds almost unbelievable, but in his situation, he had no choice but to accept such an absurd warning.”

And the patient’s luck didn’t end there.

If Ma Jong-hwan hadn’t rushed immediately after receiving a letter from his son, Ma Maeng-woon, and if Son Eun-sang hadn’t returned just in time to help speed things up, he would never have arrived in time.

Had that been the case, the last spark of life the patient held onto would have already faded away.

In the end, all these circumstances aligned perfectly to save this person.

Of course, Ma Jong-hwan’s own efforts—consistently boosting the patient’s vitality with acupuncture and herbal medicine to amplify his life force enough to draw the sword—and Son Eun-sang’s relentless pouring of her immense energy to keep the patient’s qi flowing were indispensable parts of this miracle.

After a moment, having finally sutured the heart, chest, and back, Ma Jong-hwan took a deep breath and said,

“Phew! It’s done, Eun-sang. Slowly, very slowly, please restart his blood circulation.”

Now, there was nothing more either of them could do.

All that remained was to hope that fate was still on the patient’s side.

Having grown closer through this ordeal, Ma Jong-hwan and Son Eun-sang held each other’s hands tightly, their eyes tense as they watched over the patient’s condition.